


|the legacy of glass|

by ofwrittenlegacy



Series: The Cycle of Shame [MIT AU] [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark at MIT, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, MIT!Rhodey, MIT!Tony, Maria Stark's A+ Parenting, Other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, This is an AU, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump!Tony, and sadness, budding alcoholism, he has a lot of issues, i might bring in steve and them later, if you have ideas pls tell me, if you squint its rhodey/tony, may parker sees through tony, mit era tony stark, peter is a freshman, pre iron man tony is still a dick, rhodey is 23, there will be tears, tony is 21
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-16 07:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19313092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofwrittenlegacy/pseuds/ofwrittenlegacy
Summary: Tony Stark, the youngest MIT admit. Summa cum laude, the twenty year old genius is preparing to graduate. He's volatile, self-obsessed, and doesn't play well with others. Those are expected of him when he's living at home with an abusive father. But no one expects for him to take a high schooler under his wing while he's home for Christmas break. But he's a visionary and he sees himself in Peter. He knows Peter has potential. But is Tony able to fight his own demons?





	1. bullies & babysitting

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm really excited about this AU. I think MIT!Tony and MIT!Rhodey can be explored more, so here's what I'm doing. And Tony being more of the protective older brother, than the father figure to Peter is an interesting dynamic. In a world where Howard and Maria are alive, and Peter was born in the nineties, I give you, the Cycle of Shame series.

Loud-- _er,_ obnoxious footsteps hit the snowy pavement and echoed in the quiet street. His black combat boots squeaked from the snow beneath the sole, dark washed jeans hanging dangerously low from his hips. His red shirt was fastened only partially, exposing only one of many scars across his chest. His windswept hair was tousled and hung in his eyes which were shaded by dark sunglasses. Rhodey wasn’t sure if it was to hide the black eye he was sporting, or take the edge off the hangover. Either way, it wasn’t nearly warm enough outside to warrant his wardrobe choices. The brisk New York winter would eat him alive.

“Tony, you’re gonna freeze to death.” James fussed, trailing behind his friend. Tony huffed out a laugh and fished around in his pocket until he pulled out a cigarette. He placed it between his lips.

“If you had just let me drive,” Tony tugged out a lighter. “You wouldn’t have to worry about me catching a little cold, now would you?”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Tough.”

He watched Tony take a long drag from the cigarette before snatching the stick from between his fingers. He dropped it into the snow and stomped it out. “Exercise is good for you. Plus, I’m not to keen on watching you get into a chase with the police.” “ _Again_ ” hung heavy in the air but it went without saying because Tony had only gotten into a high speed chase only a few weeks ago. They couldn’t have forgotten something of that caliber.

“The fuck--” Tony growled. “Do you get off to pissing on my parade, Rhodey? Seriously, man! Listen! I know I'm asking the impossible from you, but for once in your life, don’t be such a goddamn narc.”

Rhodey snorted. At this point, he remained completely unphased by any and all of Tony’s tantrums. “Stop your bitching, Tones. I gotta keep you around for longer than twenty years. Happy made me the babysitter. Otherwise you wouldn’t be spending Christmas at my house.”

“No,” Tony smirked. He peeked at James over the brim of his sunglasses. “I’m staying with you to spite my father.” God, Howard Stark. A ruthless businessman who didn’t know how to be a father when it counted. Abusive in the name of greatness. He was a monster and a genius. James was familiar with the many mornings when he walked into the living room of his dorm to find Tony nursing a bottle of whiskey and watching paint dry. It typically meant he had just had a very colorful conversation with his father, if the yelling hadn’t already given that away. “And I was thinking,”

“That’s never good.”

“I was _thinking_ ,” Tony pressed. “There're eighty-six thousand, four hundred seconds in a day, right? There are one thousand, four hundred and forty minutes in a day...Around eighty-seven hundred and then some hours in a year, and you know what?”

Rhodey sighed. “What, Tony?”

“I want to spend every second, every minute, every hour making Howard’s life a shit show.” Tony laughed maniacally. While they walked, Tony subconsciously lifted a hand to his swollen cheek. It was the only evidence of the black eye that Howard had given him that wasn’t concealed by the frames.

“I want to tap dance on his grave. I’ll take a piss in the casket at his funeral! I want him to take ownership of his rightful position in hell.” The hatred was so palpable, Rhodey momentarily felt sick. Casually, Tony dug around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of gum. He offered Rhodey a slice, who shook his head and proceeded to stuck three pieces of bright pink bubble gum into his mouth.

“Jesus, Tones. The man isn’t even dead yet.”

“Yet, but he will be after I give him the news.”

Rhodey faltered, his eyebrows rising in question. Tony broke into a wide sinister smile, reminding Rhodey briefly of the Cheshire Cat.

“I’m not going to inherit Stark Industries!” The laugh seemed to bubble out of Tony but it was more malicious than filled with mirth. “I don’t want it. I don’t want to create weapons. I want to build! I want to build my own stuff, not finish what Howard didn’t.”

“ _Tones_ \--” A scream cut through the quiet street. Rhodey turned towards the high school coming up on their right. The cry had come from around the gate that fenced Midtown High School. Beside him, Tony took off. James reached out for him but missed his wrist by an inch. He sighed and took off after Tony, towards the school.

* * *

 

The scream shattered the silence and Tony was moving before he knew what he was doing. He knew that type of scream. It was different from a yell of defiance, or a yell of surprise, but jagged and sharp. Anguish. Someone was hurt.

What was he going to do? Bust on to school grounds and play Superman? He hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead but his day had been spectacularly bland thus far. Trespassing sounded like a fun addition to his afternoon.

Tony turned the corner, his boots skidding along the ice. There was a kid, pressed against the side of the building, clutching his jaw. There was a slightly taller boy towering him.

“What did I tell you about making me look stupid in front of the class?” The kid had jet black hair, cut short and spiked at the top. He wore a large coat, with fur around the collar. God, he looked like a dickwad. He towered the smaller kid who looked a lot like...the mouse from whatever the hell that kids movie was. Despereaux. He was scrawny, pale and freckled, with huge brown eyes that took up the majority of his face and a small upturned button nose. He looked like a walking, talking Disney character with his large ears and innocent gaze. He also seemed to be on the verge of tears, if the redness rimming his eyes served as any indication and the quivering of his busted bottom lip. God, Tony knew how much a busted lip hurt.

Despereaux flinched. “I just answered a question.”

“Yeah, after I got it wrong!” The dickwad clenched his fist. “What did I tell you about doing that? You made me look like a moron!” He swung his arm and it connected with the small boy’s stomach. Tony felt lightheaded as the kid yelped and crumpled into the pile of snow. Apparently, the jackass wasn’t done because he dropped to his knees and took the kid by his backpack straps. Tony had seen enough.

“I-I’m sorry-”

 “ _Aye_!” Both parties paused. Tony was vaguely aware of Rhodey cursing behind him and pulling out his phone, probably to call Happy to get him out of whatever trouble he was going to get himself into. “ I would ask what the fuck it is you think you're doing, but...you _are_ a teenager. You probably can’t form an intelligible answer yet.” Tony sauntered over. He took the large kid by the fur collar and tugged him off of the mousy boy.

Surprise widened his eyes. “I’m sixteen.”

Tony ignored his dry tone. “I’m so proud that you can count that high! It's a testament to the modern American educational system. But I should probably point out that you are not the only sixteen year old here. I'm told you go to a school with a whole class of _-get this-_ kids who are sixteen." Tony jabbed his finger at the kid.

“Um, sir, I’m fourteen.” The young boy raised his hand from where he laid in the snow.

“ _Oh_ ,” All Tony could see was father, fists clenched. “You’re picking on a kid that’s two years younger than you? What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you a moron or just pathetic?” Tony seethed. Not all abuse was physical, but Tony had fallen victim to all types of it. He was shattered. This demon, this little snot rag was a pint sized Howard and if someone didn’t set him straight, someone else would have to pay for what Tony didn’t do. He began to step forward but Rhodey placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from advancing.

“I--”

“I don’t want to hear it! Picking on someone smaller than you is a dick move. You’re a little asshole and karma is gonna kick your ass so hard, I’m going to piss my shorts laughing in your face! Scram before I get you expelled.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Oh, I _can't_?" Tony didn't like people telling him what he could and couldn't do. Now he'd get him expelled for shits and giggles. "Does the name Tony Stark ring a bell?”

The kid burrowing into the snow seemed to light up. “The heir of Stark Industries?”

“ _Bingo!_ ”

The bully paled. Now that he was facing Tony, he could see Flash was etched into his jacket. That was his name? No wonder he was a Grade A piece of shit. If Rhodey wasn’t there, he would’ve kicked the kid into next semester. He was escaping prison with a feather.

“Beat it.” Tony spat and apparently the kid had one working brain cell because he took off down the street.

James let out a breath first, removing his hand from Tony’s tense shoulders. “That could’ve gotten ugly.”

“It already was.” Tony turned back to the small kid who was sitting himself up. He kneeled and reached for the kid, who flinched. “Whoa, _hey_ , easy. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Tony took on a tone that was saved exclusively for wounded animals and fussy babies. The kid stared up at him with the brightest brown eyes he’d ever seen. He looked at Tony like he held the stars in his hands. It made him a little anxious. He shuddered. It was cold outside.

“What’s your name, kid?” Tony scanned the kid’s face to inspect the damage. His lip was cut but the blood had already slowed. His cheek was rosy between getting punched and the cold but he didn’t seem too bad off. _Prognosis: he’d live._

“P-Peter. Parker. I’m Peter Parker, sir. I’m fourteen and I’m freshman here.” Peter, apparently, stammered.

“Aye, alright Chatterbox. I asked for your name, not your social security number and your address.” Tony moved to his feet and looked at the kid. He stepped back and folded his arms over his chest, allowing Rhodey to move in and help the teenager to his feet.

“Thanks for helping me, by the way. Flash, uh, he’s always been like this. I’ve started looking forward to our afternoon dates of post-chemistry pummeling.” Peter rubbed his stomach, attempting to chase away the ache of being hit there. Tony subconsciously placed a hand on his abdomen in empathy. He’d been there.

“Peter, you should tell a teacher. Bullying is a very serious issue.” Tony snorted. Rhodey was, at his core, The Babysitter.

Peter blushed and hung his head like a chastised puppy. Rhodey looked to Tony, who looked at Rhodey, who shrugged. Neither of them had exceptional experience with children but this was Rhodey’s field. He had younger siblings. Just as Tony was going to let James take the reigns, his phone rang. James squinted at the screen. For a 23 year old, he was about as tech savvy as a 83 bingo player.

“It’s Happy,” he thrust the phone towards Tony.

“I don’t like being handed things.”

Rhodey looked unamused as he turned to take the call.

“Hey kid, do you live around these parts?”

Peter nodded eagerly. “Yeah, a few miles uptown. I always walk home because my aunt has to work most of the time.”

“I’ll take you home. It’s much too cold out here. You’ll freeze to death.” _God,_ he thought. _I've been spending too much time with Rhodey. Gross._

“Are you sure, Mr. Stark? It’s not that far. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“What did you just call me?”

Peter opened his mouth and then closed it back. “Mr. Stark,” he whispered. The kid was aging him. Mr. Stark was his father. He was Anthony. Tony, on good days.

Tony scowled but he didn’t say anything.

They stood in thick silence when James returned.

“Happy is up the street.” Rhodey relayed. “We’ll take Peter home, and then we’ll go to my house.”

Tony nodded and Peter grinned.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark and Mr.-” Peter faltered.

“Rhodes.” Tony cut in before Rhodey could tell him to just call him James. If the infant was gonna make him feel old, Rhodey could suffer right alongside him.

“Thank you, Mr. Rhodes.”

When Happy pulled up, Tony expected to get an earful about jumping into the middle of a fight at a high school but instead, he was greeted by seat warmers and silence.

“Your chauffeur’s name is Happy?” Peter whispered in Tony’s ear from where he was sandwiched between him and Rhodey.

“I’m not his chauffeur, I’m his handler.” Happy called from the front seat.

Tony snorted. “He’s a _chauffeur_.”

He caught Happy roll his eyes as he shut the divider.

“That’s my apartment!” Peter pointed enthusiastically after they drove a few blocks.

“I guess that’s his apartment.” Rhodey muttered.

Happy pulled the car aside and Tony got out of the car, letting Peter slide out behind him.

“I’ll be right back.” He said, sticking his head back in the door.

“Where are you--” He slammed the door in Rhodey’s face.

Peter hooked his fingers into the straps of his backpack. “This way, Mr. Stark!”

Tony nodded and followed in silence.

 

The building was derelict. The apartment might once have been great but not much appeal was left to it. The husk of the old building has a grimy roof with broken tiles, remnants of shattered glass in rotting wooden frames, mortar and stone crumbling, graffiti, garbage, stink of urine, and ghosts of the 70s.

But as they climbed the desolate stairs to the third floor, it got a bit nicer. At least C47 was nice. There was a decorative sign on the front door that read, _“Leave your shoes and worries at the door”_ in colorful calligraphy. Tony snorted and watched as Peter nudged open the door.

“Aunt May?” He called into the quiet apartment. “I brought home a friend!”

“Peter, I swear on all that is Holy, if you brought home another cat, I’m going to go mad! You really need to stop doing that, by the way. You are enough to handle, without the added stress of an animal-- oh my, that’s a human boy.” Tony blinked as the woman rounded the corner. She wore jeans and raggedy sweater that was stretched from years of wear and tear. She had large round glasses perched on her face and her hair was up in a bun. She also had freckles, similar to the kid next to him. Oh, she was foxy. In a nerdy way.

He wanted to play connect the dots with all her freckles and see exactly where it led him--

“His name is Tony!” Peter bounded past Tony and ran to the woman, giving her a hug.

“Well, hello Tony. I'm May.” She laughed and scooped Peter into her embrace. She planted a kiss on his forehead and the action was so simple and domestic that he had to look away. He wondered what that was like. “I’m very happy you’re not another cat.”

“Huh,” Tony huffed out laugh. “Yeah, aren’t we all? Uh, I’m Tony, like the squirt here said. Um, I caught some asshol--” Tony cleared his throat “-- _jerk_ , beating up on your kid. I scared him off and I thought you might want Pietro here returned in one piece.”

Peter scrunched his nose. “Peter.”

“Whatever.”

May was silent for a while, watching Tony. Tony looked around the apartment, taking in the old couch, the small box tv, the tiny kitchen to his left. This was the size of his bedroom alone. He wasn’t judging...just curious. He looked over and caught May’s gaze. It bore into him, knocking through the solid wall around his soul and taking a gander through his deepest fears and darkest secrets. He shivered. Something about the way she looked at him made him know that she saw through everything. She saw through his sunglasses, expensive jewelry, the fast cars and the fifteen credit cards. She saw through him and saw Tony. She saw _him_.

“Thank you so much, Tony.”

Tony flinched at the sound of his name. He cleared his throat and moved to the coffee table. He sketched down his number on a spare piece of mail laying there. A bill, most likely.

“Hey kid, call me if you ever need anything. Anything at all.”

Peter reddened. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t mention it, Pablo.” He winked at May and quickly vacated the room.

He didn’t release the breathe he was holding until he was in the hallway. They were an interesting group of people. He thought about Aunt May all the way back to the car.

“Is the kid okay?" Rhodey shifted so Tony could slide in next to him. "Why are you making that face? You’re making your sexy face. Why are you making your sexy face? You’re not trying to bone the poor boy’s parents are you?”

“Nah, nah, I’m not a monster.” Tony snorted. “I’m trying to bone his _aunt_. “

“You’re going to hell.”

“And I’m taking you with me.”

“Ninety percent of intelligence is knowing when to shut up.”

The corners of his mouth tipped up. “I’m fifty percent money, eighty percent genius and seventy percent caffeine.”

“That’s…” Tony watched Rhodey do the mental math. “That’s two hundred percent.”

He slid his sunglasses off. “Exactly.”

Tony leaned back, his eyes closing and let Queens disappear around him as they drove towards his own personal hell.


	2. physics, physical & feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the media, they were the perfect family. Yet, Tony stood in the bathroom mirror, sliding on a long sleeve shirt to hide the purple blemishes on his collarbone. The shirt would mostly cover the bruise, but Tony wouldn’t forget. Not when he could feel the ache any time he took a deep breath.  
> “That which don’t kill you requires centuries of therapy and a hell of a lot of Tylenol.” Tony said. 
> 
> \--
> 
> When you dance with the devil, you seldom get to pick the tune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter takes place 3 weeks after them meeting. uhh don't try calling the number. i made it up and you might get someone and i dont think itll be peter parker lmao

In the media, they were the perfect family. Yet, Tony stood in the bathroom mirror, sliding on a long sleeve shirt to hide the purple blemishes on his collarbone. The shirt would mostly cover the bruise, but Tony wouldn’t forget. Not when he could feel the ache any time he took a deep breath. 

It had been a particularly colorful conversation that took place in front of the family portrait that was taken when Tony was still swaddled in blankets. Before his tongue had become his Achilles heel. 

* * *

 

“It’s not up for debate, Anthony!” 

Tony snorted. “I don’t remember asking what you thought. I’m not inheriting Stark Industries! I don’t want it.” 

Howard snarled, his nostrils flaring in anger. He was standing so closely that Tony could feel his alcohol laced breath on his cheek. “I built this legacy for you! You are _nothing_ without me, boy! It isn’t up for debate. I intend to create something great so you can keep the Stark name alive.” 

“Intentions hardly ever match impact. Evil with good intention is still _evil_. When you dance with the devil, you seldom get to pick the tune.” 

Howard thrust his fist into Tony’s chest before he could even react. Tony doubled over, clutching the edge of the family portrait to keep him upright. 

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a Stark and an even worse excuse of a son.” 

Tony swallowed back the bile rising in his throat when Howard’s wedding ring dug into his collarbone. 

“You’re not so spectacular yourself, pops.” 

Howard took Tony by the collar and pulled him close so their noses were nearly touching. Fear flicked across Tony’s face but he lowered his gaze so Howard didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing him cower. 

“What did you just say?” 

He could kill Tony and no one would even ask questions. 

“Nothing.” 

“Nothing, what?” 

“Nothing, _sir_.” 

* * *

 

Tony had gone to the bathroom after that, to wash off the wound but the skin was barely broken, only a fist sized bruise on his collarbone. He adjusted his white long sleeved Henley and the mark disappeared from his sight. He entered his bedroom and listened to the commotion, two floors down. He could hear his father on the phone, cursing and spitting and then there was silence. 

He walked on eggshells after that, making sure to leave without a trace. Maria didn’t need to know he’d been there and hadn’t said hello. His mother had been through enough, she didn’t need another heartbreak. God, his mother. What an angel. 

He was almost gone, standing in the garage when he heard the door open. He whirled with an urgency, holding his hands over his face to brace for impact. But the contact never came. He lowered his hands from his eyes to find Jarvis standing there, a towel draped over his arm. He was standing in a suit, his hair slicked back and round framed glasses perched on his nose. 

“Young Master Stark,” Jarvis smiled. 

“You know I hate it when you call me that, J.” 

“It would be inappropriate for me to call you, ah, Tony.” 

Tony smiled, leaning on the hood of a car. He fished a pair of keys out of his leather jacket and twirled them around his finger. “Whatever, man.” 

“I came to see you off. And to inform you that Howard caught an impromptu flight to California to deal with Stark Industries business.” 

“I’m jizzing my pants with excitement, J, really.” Tony rolled his eyes. “But I’m not taking over the business.” 

“Master Stark, forgive me for this but, are you mad?” 

Tony snorted. “Crazy? Yeah, I ate dust bunnies as a child. It was fun but, chromosomally damaging.” Tony pushed off the hood of the car and scanned the row of vehicles. Yellow. He was feeling yellow today. He unlocked the yellow Dodge Challenger and slid into the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, J. I’ll create my own legacy!” 

He opened the garage and sped out of the Stark Residence before the conversation could go any further. 

* * *

 

“I’m surprised he didn’t kill you.” Rhodey said, settling onto the couch. Tony sat with his feet kicked up on the coffee table, nursing a mug of hot chocolate. He had asked if Rhodey had anything stronger but his options were “orange juice or holy water” and Tony wasn’t too keen on either of those things. 

“That which don’t kill you requires centuries of therapy and a hell of a lot of Tylenol.” Tony set down the mug of hot chocolate. 

“Tell me about it,” Rhodey chuckled. Tony’s phone buzzed. “Who is it?” 

Tony tugged his phone from his skin tight jeans and squinted at the screen. 

_854-555-0173_

_hey is this mr. stark?_

Tony lifted the phone to show Rhodey.

“Who do you think it is?” 

“No clue.” 

Before he could reply, his phone buzzed again. 

_854-555-0173_

_oh!! this is Peter by the way._

_854-555-0173_

_Parker._

_Mr. Stark (Tony) 🕶❤️_

_Oh, hey kid. What’s cracking?_

_Pampers Parker 🍼_

_nothing!! i was wondering if maybe possibly you wanted to go grab ice cream…_

_Mr. Stark (Tony) 🕶❤️_

_In the middle of the winter?_

_Pampers Parker 🍼_

_yeah... :)_

Tony looked up at Rhodey. “The kid wants to hang.” 

Rhodey looked skeptical. “Do you think that one dude is giving him a hard time?” 

Tony shrugged. 

_Mr. Stark (Tony) 🕶❤️_

_Why do I feel like there’s more to this than you’re letting on?_

_Pampers Parker 🍼_

_OKAY! so i have a physics test coming up_

_i’m so confused and aunt may doesn’t know a single thing about physics so she told me to ask “the little friend i brought home” and at first i thought she meant the cat_

_but_

_she meant you but i know you’re like the leader of all things mechanic and you probably don’t have the time but if you could spare ten minutes_

_tht would save my life_

Tony choked out a laugh. “Abso- _fucking_ -lutely not.” 

“What’s he want? Two grand? One of your cars?” Rhodey smiled around the rim of his mug. 

“He wants me to tutor him.” Tony dropped his phone in his lap. Did he look like Mother Theresa? He could name five things that he’d prefer to do on a wintery Thursday evening and most of them involved exotic drugs and not babysitting pre-pubescent boys.

“Whoa, what? Why are you saying no? That would be so good for him! He likes you.” His brows knitted. 

“I have no desire to spend my evening doing high school level science.” 

Rhodey sighed. “You told him that he could reach out for anything, Tones. _Anything_.” 

“You’re going to guilt me into going, aren’t you?” 

“Basically, yeah.” 

Tony’s gaze lingered on Rhodey and then he sighed and picked up his phone. 

_Mr. Stark (Tony) 🕶❤️_

_I’ll pick you up from your house in twenty minutes._

_Pampers Parker 🍼_

_really??? wow tysm mr. stark! do you remember where i live_

_Mr. Stark (Tony) 🕶❤️_

_I couldn’t forget if I tried._

There was a hand on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Tones.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he shrugged Rhodey’s hand off. “Slap my ass and give me a sticker. I’m breaking the cycle of shame.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Tony was less than thrilled when he pulled up in a costly car in the sketchiest part of Queens. He locked his car and hurried into the building to escape the biting cold. The same cobwebs and ghosts awaited him, three weeks after his first visit. 

He made it to C47 and raised his fist to knock when he heard voices inside. 

“Is he a good guy?” Jesus, the walls were paper thin. 

“No, Aunt May. He’s one of Satan’s cronies. Matter of fact, after we finish studying, we’re gonna get liquored up, tatted and go blow his entire trust fund in a club in Vegas.” His lips puckered. Were they talking about him? He leaned closer to the door. “Yes, he’s a good boy. He’s basically a child prodigy. Went to MIT at seventeen. He’s the future heir of a super huge company. It’s ridiculous. He’s really nice. He saved me from Flash, a couple weeks ago. Anyone who stops Flash is good in my book.” 

Tony knocked. The door opened to reveal May sitting on the couch in scrubs. So, Aunt Sexy was a nurse? Hot. He wanted her to give him a thorough check up. From head to toe. He was feeling a little faint. He could use a very long...steamy...physical. Then Peter peaked out from behind the door, his bright blue backpack strapped onto his back. 

“I don’t suppose you also told your aunt that I also eat babies and kick puppies in my spare time? My therapist says I’m doing better though.” Tony leaned against the door. 

May paled. “Tony,” she breathed. “Hi. I’m _so_ sorry--”

“No, you’re all good. You gotta keep an eye on your kid. You wouldn’t want Paco getting mixed up in the wrong crowd.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “My name is Peter!”

“ _Shh_ ,” Tony pressed his palm over Peter’s mouth. “The adults are talking.”

“Fraternizing,” May corrected. 

“Philandering,” Peter said into Tony’s palm. 

“May,” Tony moved through the threshold and to the couch. He took a seat on the arm. “Is there any chance you need tutoring as well?” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the gagging sound Peter made. 

“Absolutely not.” She smiled. 

“I’m a jack of all trades. If you ever need help, you know who to call.” 

May rolled her eyes. “Well, aren’t you an enigma wrapped in a thick coat of contradictions?” 

Tony smiled. “I have more where that came from.” 

“ _Okay_!” Peter appeared. Where had he come from? He tugged Tony’s arm. “I’ll be back in two hours, May. I love you, bye!” Before Tony had a chance to really lay on the charm thick, they were outside. 

“Little man, what the hell is wrong with you? I was just getting started! Didn’t anyone ever teach you, you don’t interrupt a man when he’s spitting game.” Tony rolled his eyes, following the kid down the stairs. 

Peter rounded the corner, skipping down the stairs with the juvenile energy he had lost long ago. “No, my Aunt May is different. She wouldn’t go for you if you were the last man on Earth.” 

“Oh,” Tony snorted. “Thanks, kid. You’re real good for my self esteem. You should volunteer at a hotline.” 

“I could. And I’d save more lives than you ever would.” Peter smirked up at Tony when Tony scoffed. Satisfied, Peter darted out of the lobby, giggling as Tony ran after, yelling for him to come back. 

Once they reached the outdoors, Tony finally caught up to Peter. 

“You’re a little shit, you know?” He stopped next to Peter, panting. Peter froze, the color draining from his face. His expression blanked and Tony furrowed his brows. Was he gonna vomit, cry or pass out? Tony wasn’t sure. 

“What’s got your tongue, squirt? Hop in, let’s go!” 

“H-Hop in?” Peter eyed the car with a mix of horror and awe. “Have you lost your mind? I can’t get in this! I might...might leave a fingerprint.” 

“Oh, the horror. I’ll have to burn it.” Tony unlocked the car and rounded to the driver’s side. 

It took another minute or two before Peter slowly slid into the passenger’s seat. His sat like his spine had transformed into a metal rod, and he kept his hands in his lap. It dawned on Tony that Peter and his aunt probably weren’t well off. Seeing their apartment said that much. So an expensive sports care probably struck the fear of God into the boy. 

When Tony started the car, Tony caught Peter shiver out the corner of his eye. 

“How is this your car?” Peter fixed Tony with those doe eyes. Since the first time they met, he looked at Tony like he held the stars. It took everything Tony had not to flinch under his expectant gaze. He was going to let that boy down, someday. He could feel it. 

“I wrote a really big check and then, this is the kicker,” Tony paused. “They gave me the keys. It was like magic.”

* * *

 

The true magic happened in the ice cream parlor. 

Tony had gotten two scoops of cookie dough and kept it simple. Classy. Peter, who had never met classy and wouldn’t know classy if it broke his nose, got strawberry, mint chocolate chip (it looked like toothpaste), two scoops of rocky road and sprinkles, chocolate syrup and marshmallows on top. With every bite, Tony felt another tooth rot in his head-- sympathy pain. Having feelings was a bitch. 

The magical part was when Peter cracked open his textbook. He wasn’t taking freshman physics which spent a 3/4ths of the semester on Isaac Newton’s dick and then built a rocket, but rather, Tony was greeted by AP Physics, electromagnetism.

Excitement thrummed through him so aggressively, he nearly snatched the pencil from Peter. 

Very quickly, Tony realized Peter was incredibly bright for his age. He really didn’t need the help at all. Just a little coaxing, validation and push him really think critically. 

“The strong nuclear force binds quarks to bind…nucleons and binds nucleons to bind…” Peter’s pencil danced above the paper. 

“Come on, kid, you’re so close. Don’t let the ice cream rot your brain now!” 

“Nuclei?” 

“Boom! You didn’t need my help. You just wanted someone to hold your hand.” 

Peter laughed. “No, I did. I did, Mr. Stark. Really. I guess I knew more than I thought. Thank you so much.” Peter closed the notebook and faced Tony. The look was back. Like Tony hung the sun in the sky. Peter’s eyes flickered from Tony’s face to his chest and Tony watched the admiration morph into horror in a matter of seconds. 

“Mr. _Stark_!” 

Tony lowered his gaze. The collar of his shirt had dipped, placing the purple bruise on display for the kid and anyone else who wanted to look. Tony yanked his shirt up, and tugged his leather jacket on to help cover himself. He felt impossibly naked under the burning shop lights. 

“Just a bruise, kid. No need to cause a scene about it.” Tony whispered through gritted teeth. 

“But you’re hurt. Are you okay?” Frantically, Peter reached out to touch it. That was his mistake. Frantic. The sudden movement made Howard’s lifeless gaze flash through Tony’s head. He flinched, hard. 

When he opened his eyes, he had Peter by the wrist, holding his hand away from him in a tight grip. Peter looked alarmed. He had eyes as open and honest as any child, warm and trusting. But that warmth waned, flickering and replaced by fear for only a second. The same way Tony looked at Howard sometimes. He released Peter’s wrist and choked on his next breath. 

“I-- _sorry_. Uh, sorry.” 

Rather than crying or running, which Tony halfway expected, Peter let his arm drop. He leaned closer. 

“Mr. Stark,” he whispered. When Tony didn’t look at him, Peter poked his cheek. “ _Tony_.” 

That caught his attention. “Hmm?”

“How did you get hurt?” It occurred to Tony then that when Peter looked at him, with that look that he wasn’t seeing him. He didn’t see him with his eyes, but Peter saw with his heart. Peter was wise beyond years. And yet his kindness made him foolish. Foolish enough to trust someone like Tony. 

Tony swallowed thickly. His issues were not the kid’s problem but he had a feeling the kid had already figured it out. He was just looking for confirmation. “Don’t worry about it, Velma. You just worry about your little test coming up.” 

For a fraction of a second, Peter looked like he was going to press the matter but he thought the better of it and cleaned up his now empty ice cream container. Tony was grateful for the moment alone when Peter went to throw away their trash. He was inhaling and exhaling, but he couldn’t breathe. 

They were quiet as they left the ice cream parlor. They were equally as quiet on the ride back to Peter’s home. 

 “Thanks for today, Mr. Stark.” Peter slipped out of the car. He slung his bag over his shoulder and leaned against the door. 

“No problem. Hey, I’ll make you deal.” Tony offered, and Peter hummed. “If you get above a B- on your test, we can get pizza sometime next week.” 

Peter smiled. Tony felt himself relax. The kid didn’t hate him. That was good. “I’d love that.”

Tony started up the car again but Peter rested his hand on the door. 

“Mr. Stark,” he hummed. “Adversary is the stone to sharpen your sword against to fight new battles.” 

Tony’s heart dropped into his stomach. He feigned indifference. “What does that mean, _oh_ , Great Yoda?” 

“I dunno.” Just as quickly as the wisdom had come, it dissipated, leaving Peter with his goofy grin and big ears. “Something my aunt said once. She’s always speaking gibberish.” 

“I’d let her make me speak gibberish.” 

“Whoa, alright, Johnny Bravo, that’s TMI.” 

“TMI?” 

“Just when I think you’re cool, you remind me that you’re an old man.” Peter sighed. “Bye, Mr. Stark.” 

“Bye, Pete.” 

Peter paused, arching a brow. That was the closest Tony had ever gotten to his real name. Tony smirked. The nickname was fitting. 

“Tell Aunt Hottie I said call me. G’night, Patrick.”

And just like that, Tony sped off, letting Queens, physics and all his emotional bruises melt away like ice cream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you have something you want to see, please comment! follow me on tumblr @ofwrittenlegacy. I'd love to talk!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! pls comment and hit me up on tumblr @ofwrittenlegacy.


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